Alone
by Prime627
Summary: Optimus has trouble sleeping, and after self-medicating, he is launched into a horrible nightmare and he begins to question...is he really appreciated on this team? /May be continued, I dunno, let's see how this takes? XD Enjoy
_Hello, hello anybody out there? 'Cause I don't hear a sound._

 _Alone, alone I don't really know where the world is, but I miss it now._

"He's not a good leader," one said.

"We would be better without him," offered another.

"He's doing nothing for us. We would be better off with Ratchet as leader. What do you think, medic?"

The older mech made an affirmative grunt. "He's too young of a leader..."

Optimus walked down the hall, stopping when he heard their voices. He stopped to observe his team gathered around Ratchet, who was rubbing his jaw with a hand, the other crossed around his chest. Ratchet's optics were closing in a long blink. Arcee's winglets flicked with emotion. Bumblebee and Bulkhead both nodded slowly in agreement.

Optimus' spark went cold and he staggered back at Ratchet's declaration.

"We have to tell him to surrender the Matrix to a capable Autobot."

 _I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name like a fool at the top of my lungs._

 _Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm all right but it's never enough._

 _'Cause my echo, echo is the only voice coming back._

 _My shadow, shadow is the only friend that I have._

He cried out and the Autobot's helms shot up to see him hiding in the hall. Arcee ran after him. Ratchet lifted a syringe of a poison reserved for Decepticons. Bulkhead and Bumblebee moved as one creature, bolting after Arcee. Optimus turned an ran, wailing.

"Please! Listen to me! I am sorry I have failed you. But we can talk about this! Honest." He barricaded himself in the personal wash racks and he sat down on the cold, wet floor. Tears collected in his optics and he hugged himself, whimpering.

 _Listen, listen I will take a whisper if that's all you had to give._

 _But it isn't, isn't you could come and save me and try to chase the crazy right out of my head._

"Come out, Optimus," Arcee cooed. Her sharp denta poked under the door as she curled them into the metal and drew her claws back, making scratch marks. She did it repeatedly, trying to break down the door one splinter at a time. Ratchet was using his welder. Optimus could smell it.

"We just want to chat," Ratchet laughed. "You know, regular talk about the Matrix. Tell me. Does the owner have to be dead in order for it to be removed?"

"Go away!"

 _I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name like a fool at the top of my lungs._

 _Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm all right but it's never enough._

 _'Cause my echo, echo is the only voice coming back._

 _My shadow, shadow is the only friend that I have._

The door split in half, the melted bits of it pushed out by Ratchet's brave servos and arms. The door began to freeze like that as the heat left the hot areas and made it impossible to move. Arcee, small enough to fit, jumped through and walked towards him, holding the syringe that Optimus had seen Ratchet pick up. She stopped at his pedes and she knelt. "I'm sorry it had to end like this," she said as she flicked the syringe, as if measuring how much of the toxic liquid was in it. She smiled at him. "But it's either us or you."

Optimus threw up his servos when she went at him with the needle, light glinting off the tip.

 _I don't wanna be an island and I just wanna feel alive and get to see your face again._

 _I don't wanna be an island and I just wanna feel alive and get to see your face again._

 _Just my echo, Oh, my shadow, you're my only friend._

Optimus laid on the bottom of the shower, water pattering down on his armor. He took one ragged inhale after the other, his servos and pedes limp and not working. He whimpered lightly, the sound echoing off the walls. A broken syringe laid beside him, the recharge-inducing liquid in it circulating in his veins. But it didn't work as well as he thought it would. It wore off and left him in the arms of a nightmare. He curled up a little bit, pulling his cold frame closer towards him.

Ratchet found him and he stroked his helm, sighing at the broken syringe. "Optimus..."

"I am not sleeping well," he gasped. "All I dream of is...you and the others...declaring me as...weak...unfit to lead...young." His optics lifted to watch his face. "Ratchet, I am afraid."

"Of what?"  
But Optimus just laid his helm down and whimpered, whispering softly:

 _And I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name like a fool at the top of my lungs._

 _Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm all right but it's never enough_

 _'Cause my echo, echo._

 _Oh my shadow, shadow._

 _Hello, hello anybody out there..._


End file.
